Interlude: Hot to Katratzi
by oblivion7
Summary: Sikozu gets caught between a rock, a hard place, the frying pan and the fire.


INTERLUDE: WE'RE SO SCREWED: HOT TO KATRATZI (PG)

Author: oblivion7

Setting: Some time during WSS: Hot to Katratzi

Synopsis: Sikozu gets an offer that is nearly impossible to refuse.

Disclaimer: Farscape is the property of Henson Co. Any similarity to other stories is unintentional.

* * *

* * * * *

She'd almost forgotten how wonderful it felt to be with her own kind.

Sikozu sat at the table with a wary group of Kalish scholars and technicians, all of whom were expressing their quiet anger and irritation at being forced to work closely with the repulsive Charrids. Their words, however, couched a greater frustration about enslavement of the Kalish by the Scarrens. As time passed and they became more intimate with Scarren society—as far as they were concerned, there was no such thing as Scarren culture—they became more determined to free themselves of servitude to their brutally vainglorious masters.

Sikozu understood this only too well. Though she owed her education to her parents' sacrifices for the Scarrens, she had seen what it cost them as well as many others. Always she knew the unspoken truth: they must somehow rise up against their captors and escape to establish a home of their own—or die in the attempt.

But though continued slavery was intolerable, she also knew that they were not ready to act on their dreams. Soon, however, their numbers would be sufficient to destroy the yoke that was crushing them. She just needed patience, consistently her least admirable trait.

"The Charrids continually destroy our work in their clumsy efforts to operate simple equipment," an older woman said as she sipped a steaming brew. Her face was bland, but her eyes flared in with discontent. "Their incompetence ends up reflecting on us, since the Scarrens see both of our races in the same light."

The man to Sikozu's right nodded. "They are too narrow to understand that they are slaves," he growled. "It is as if they have no concept of freedom."

A young tech sighed. "I have no understanding of it myself," he sighed, closing his eyes. "I hear of it, but I have worked for the Scarrens most of my life. The idea of freedom seems more of a luxury than a reality."

"It is NOT a luxury!" Sikozu hissed fiercely, barely restraining the desire to scream. "If we lose our focus, if we fail to work to make freedom real, then the Scarrens are right about our inferiority and we truly deserve our fate as slaves! Without freedom, we have no security, no respect among ourselves or from others, and worse we will stagnate as a people. You must NEVER lose sight of our goal, no matter what the cost!"

The youth was startled by her vehemence but forced to agree. The others at the table nodded, glowing with pride at her determination. Sikozu glanced at a woman across from her, who gave her a slow nod. Her eyes quickly rolled in her head, and Sikozu felt her heart leap.

There were more than she suspected, and it was likely that they were well scattered throughout the Scarren empire. Some day the Kalish would rebel against their oppressors, and Sikozu hoped she would be part of it.

A Scarren guard walked behind her, pausing at the table to eye each person seated as if taking a count. His coarse features and plain dark clothing displayed that he was of lower class, but his attitude made it clear that he was far superior to the seated slaves. His gaze through pinprick eyes fell on each in turn, lingering briefly on Sikozu. He looked at her with a dismissive expression as if her very existence—as well as that of all other Kalish—rendered them too trivial for serious consideration. Yet he leaned closer between her and the female next to her, nostrils flaring slightly and lips curling. Sikozu knew to avoid eye contact, but wondered at his interest. After a derisive snort, he wandered away.

The Kalish heaved a collective sigh. Whatever the Scarrens lacked in brains they more than made up for with tremendous strength, an overly efficient sense of smell, and a temper always one atom short of critical mass. But their boots were squarely at the throats of the Kalish Confederacy, and until the time was right, they were forced to swallow their pride to insure survival.

Sikozu excused herself, still unsettled by the brief attentiveness of the guard. She leaned against the wall of a dark corner and sighed. In some ways, she was torn between helping Crichton and staying to help her people; both had the same goal, although the motives were very far apart. Moya and her crew had accepted her without many questions, though they found her as difficult to live with as she did adapting to their ordinary mentality. Yet she observed that they had managed to elude both the Peacekeepers and the Scarrens, overcoming their own selfish differences and disagreements to form a family bond she often envied. She had to admit that even the Kalish could learn from Moya's misfits.

The soft vibration of the comm drew her attention to the present. Sikozu decided to forget the encounter with the guard and put the needs of her people on hold. First things first, she reminded herself. Perhaps helping to eliminate the threat to Crichton's wormhole knowledge would open a door for the Kalish to find their way to freedom.

* * *

* * * * *

Staleek's words still burned her neck ridges as Akhna took the lift to her upper quarters. A double insult to her family added to the ever-growing list of reasons for her to nourish her hatred of the Emperor. Not only had he stolen the throne, but he then installed her father as war minister to publicly humiliate him further. Staleek knew that having the deposed leader work for him, taking his orders and addressing him by titles would solidify his own position and insure that the former head of the Scarren Empire could never take back what he held for so long.

She paused at the mirror to admire how well the sacred flower worked its wonder. Daily her skin smoothed, the coarse leathery features giving way to a gentler, ridgeless face. Among her own kind she was considered one of the most beautiful females ever born; to outsiders, however, the fact that she was Scarren royalty was still more than enough to fill them with fear and loathing.

Looks aside, she had no intention of allowing the upstart to keep his position. The appearance of this human had thrown the entire court into disarray, and while she was as irritated by his stubbornness as the Emperor, she saw possibilities that would redeem what was rightfully hers.

Relaxing on cushions surrounded by a tepid breeze, Akhna reviewed the information about the newly arrived Kalish with interest. That female's association with Scorpius made her a possible tool to get nearer to Crichton since other attempts proved fruitless. Although the human did not trust the half-breed, he disliked Scarrens far more and it was plain where his loyalties would lie given a choice between the two.

No. Other options must be put into place.

Akhna had learned much from her deposed father, including the importance of using spies of any sort in the most imaginative ways. It was a brief lapse in judgment that led to his downfall; the usurper now ruling had caught him by surprise by somehow gaining the trust of an Emperor that had lived nearly a full lifetime without it. Maybe Staleek had found the old leader again wishing for a male heir even though there was no doubt that he intended for his daughter to rule after him. Or perhaps with the intelligence uplift came a desire for trusted companionship. Whatever the reason, those final words to his daughter were perfectly clear: take back the throne by any means necessary.

Akhna had every intention of fulfilling his desire.

Sikozu did not seem particularly close to any of Moya's other crew, which meant she might be approachable. Akhna knew she would have to use caution, since she was very aware of the hatred of Scarrens in every Kalish heart. Sikozu would find it distasteful to work with the Empire to get information that would mean absolute power for their masters.

Akhna smiled to herself. How delightfully ironic.

She rose from her comfortable repose and glided to the entrance, motioning to her servant.

"Inform security that I want all information on the Kalish from Moya sent directly to me," she ordered. "I want to know where she goes, who she sees, everything."

The servant bowed and disappeared.

Akhna returned to her rooms and thoughtfully chewed on a flower. The juices from its nectar seemed to permeate her entire system as she swallowed, getting her mind to sparkle with ideas and possibilities. Once Crichton was in her hands, she would take her time extracting the wormhole data; it would be foolish to give Staleek too much of the information all at once. No, it would be best to keep the vital portions to herself, either as a way to improve her own position or better, to make her own wormhole weapon.

We'll see which of us can out-betray the other, Akhna swore with an unpleasant serrated smile.

* * *

* * * * *

"Crichton…John, can you hear me?"

Sikozu tried to look calm as she walked through the accepted areas of Katratzi, but she felt her agitation growing. Their plan was at best insane, at worst suicide, but even she had to admit that their choices were few. She worried that the human had failed to convince either Staleek or Grayza that his intent with the explosive device was serious; she knew the Scarrens were frantically searching for a way to deactivate it, and feared they would succeed before long…

"Yeah, Red, what's up?"

She was relieved to hear his voice, but annoyed that he seemed somewhat breathless…

"Crichton, I am concerned for this plan," she whispered fiercely. "There are far too many uncertainties, and much that can go wrong. Have you considered an alternative if this fails?"

She heard his coarse chuckle. "Sikozu, if this fails we'll all be too dead to worry about it," he replied. "C'mon, have a little faith. After all, you're as eager to rescue Grasshopper as I am…"

"Your only concern is his potential wormhole knowledge," she snapped. "You care precious little for his life otherwise."

John sighed. "Okay, maybe you want it more than I do," he admitted. "But if you've got a better idea, now's the time to spill it. Time's not on our side."

Sikozu rolled her eyes. As bizarre as this plan seemed, it was all they had; even she could think of nothing better. "Very well," she said in resignation. "I have already started sowing seeds of discontent. I will feed this as much as I can."

"Do it quick, Red. We don't know how long Scorpy'll hold out."

That goes for the rest of us as well, she thought grimly.

* * *

* * * * *

So despite her being part of the crew, she still prefers her own kind, Akhna laughed to herself, watching Sikozu as the recorder monitored the movements of each visitor to Katratzi. Excellent. So nice to know that Kalish are wonderfully predictable no matter where they are.

Their attempt at escape having failed, Crichton was no doubt growing desperate. He had to suspect that soon they would disarm his primitive device, leaving him few if any options. She could see the worry in their faces without having to hear their conversation; the next move on their part would likely result in their demise.

However, Akhna did not maintain her position through careless speculation, but because she assumed her enemy was as ruthless as herself. None of them had anticipated Crichton's move to free Scorpius, and his near success gave all of them pause for thought. She would let Staleek keep his belief that the half-breed was a reliable ally; Akhna trusted no one she could not completely control.

It was time to put a contingency plan into motion. It may turn out to be unnecessary, in which case the spy would be easily destroyed. But she knew that it was an advantage she could use at any time, and would give her the tools she needed to obtain her prize.

"Security!" Akhna snapped over her private channel. "Bring the Kalish from Moya to my private banquet hall." She had to suspect that the emperor monitored every communication, but he would be far too concerned with Crichton at the moment. It would be days before he learned of her action, and by then the matter should be resolved—one way or another.

* * *

* * * * *

Sikozu did her best to relax, keeping her hands folded across her lap and her eyes to the floor. She forced her face to remain calm, but inside she churned with fear and loathing. The very presence of the war minister gave her a chill that no amount of bravado could shake off.

Akhna stood over her for a few breaths as if analyzing whether to dismiss or devour the creature in front of her. It wasn't that Sikozu was intimidated by Akhna's size—being female, she was smaller than the Scarren males Sikozu had dealt with in the past, and Akhna was half the size of Staleek as the regally imposing Emperor. Yet she was proof that especially with the Scarrens, the females were deadlier than the males. Akhna's every move implied threat, every look a betrayal, every spoken word a promise of trouble. No, Sikozu thought as she watched the minister pace around her, I'd rather face a room full of Staleeks than a single Akhna…

The war minister spun with a smooth speed that caused Sikozu to jump involuntarily. Leaning into her face as if to get a closer look, Akhna peered at Sikozu with thin smile. Sikozu kept her eyes away, trying not to shrink from the sickly sweet breath and the nearly smooth features. It was easy to see that the uplift from the plant had worked special magic with Akhna, and she was skilled at using it to her advantage.

All the more reason to fear her.

"As Kalish, you must certainly find it disgusting to travel with inferior beings," Akhna stood finally, getting to the point. "Why do you bother? Have they something special to offer that you cannot find here among your own people?"

Sikozu knew she was being baited, but felt the heat of anger start to rise. "My people are enslaved," she replied tightly. "Aboard Moya I have some freedom."

"Ah. Freedom. An interesting choice of words. And being with so many strange lowly species…this is acceptable? Even though one is a Scarren half-breed?"

"Yes," Sikozu snapped more quickly than she'd intended. "I have a measure of…respect from them."

"But not for all of them. And Crichton—do you respect him as well?"

Sikozu frowned in confusion, "In a manner, yes. He has shown himself…capable, within his species' limits."

"Hmmm. And do you consider him a companion? Someone worth sacrificing yourself for?"

Sikozu kept silent, unable to assess where the war minister was taking the conversation. Akhna stood across the table and smiled, a sight that sent chills down Sikozu's back.

"I see that you remain silent. I take that to mean your thoughts on this are unclear." The minister took a few steps, put her hand to her chin, then turned away.

"Let me give you something else to think about," Akhna went on airily. "One way or another, Crichton will not leave this facility alive. Nor will those who work with him. We had hoped Scorpius would prove an excellent spy, but as I discovered—and the Emperor has yet to understand—our Scarren half-breed has his own agenda, and I believe it involves destruction of our empire at any cost. He is quite firm in this resolve, and no amount of torture or intimidation can bribe him away from his hatred of us.

"You, however, are another matter. You are Kalish—and you would do anything to free your people. Am I correct that you are from a family of prominent scholars, and that much of your family is scattered or destroyed?"

Sikozu felt herself nod as her throat tightened, recalling the absent goodbyes said as she saw her relatives and friends either disappear by night or be forcefully taken by day.

"Am I also correct that you seek to have your people freed of their bondage to our empire?

One look gave Akhna her answer.

"Then consider my offer. I need a reliable…informant, as a contingency plan in case the impossible happens and somehow Crichton escapes. I know Scorpius will stay with him, or if they become separated, he is the animal that would find him wherever he hides even in Tormented Space. Scorpius is relentless in his determination to have this wormhole knowledge, and so am I; it is not a guess but a fact that he will get it, sooner or later. When he does, I want to know."

Akhna headed for the door. "I do not expect an answer at present," she called over her shoulder. "I have a contact device I shall leave where you will find it. It is already aboard the Luxan vessel, and as Kalish you alone will appreciate its location. Put away any worries, it will not be discovered if you use it correctly. As soon as you contact me, I will know we have an agreement. If not, or if you should be so foolish as to try to change your mind later, be prepared to suffer my own aurora chair when I find you and your shipmates. Oh, and other Kalish will suffer as well—at least until I have my annoyance satisfied."

Trying to hide the trace of hope that she felt, Sikozu at first remained stonily silent. But the temptation to inquire was too deeply ingrained in her personality; she had to know if there was even the slightest chance that her dream of freedom for the Kalish could become reality.

"What…what exactly will I gain for my…betrayal?" Sikozu hissed, hating herself for even considering the idea, and wishing she had Scorpius' ability to discern truth from a lie.

Akhna turned as she motioned the guard to back away, leaving the way for Sikozu to walk out unimpeded. The narrow black eyes widened with glittering cruelty as a genuine smile slowly crossed her saurian features.

"Realize, Kalish, that some day I will be empress. With the wormhole knowledge you help me obtain, it will be sooner rather than later. Once I have the power in my hands, I will release your people."

"And how do I know you will keep your word?"

Akhna shrugged. "I will have no need of the Kalish since the sacred flower grows wild on Crichton's planet. With wormhole control, I can uplift more of my own people and have my own scientists and scholars. There will be no need to keep the Kalish enslaved for their knowledge. We can merely hire them as…advisors."

Akhna swept regally toward the door, pausing to give Sikozu a brief bow. "Think carefully, Kalish," the war minister said in a low tone. "I will expect your response soon. Keep close the thought that I will see delay as refusal—which I do not accept with pleasure."

Left alone in the room, Sikozu wanted to scream, to bathe, and then disappear. Part of her knew Akhna would never free the Kalish, yet she knew if she missed this chance to do so, all her other sacrifices would prove pointless.

She could only hope Crichton's next plan—whatever it would be—worked well enough to keep that choice out of her path…


End file.
